Eight of Hearts: The Rift Blade - Book 1

Epilogue

Dr. Higgins sat at the monitor in front of him watching the security footage of his quarry escaping. He couldn't suppress a shiver of delight as he watched James create a gateway out of thin air with the sword he carried. That would explain how Kaya and the lost had found the holding facility without coordinates. A weapon like that, able to grant access to other worlds--and even pocket dimensions--would be an incredible boon to his plans. Given their lack of protective equipment, they couldn't possibly be passing through the void like the HDSF did. He would have to devise a scheme to use Shyla to steal it when he had the chance.

He checked through more footage and found the recording of Kaya and the Life Mage as they tracked down a warp drive and left together. Forgotten was the body of the giant man who had almost prevailed against him. It was a shameful waste: he would have made a wonderful addition to his agents. His ranks of loyal mind-slaves were significantly depleted, down to just the active field agents. But that was a small price to pay for the progress made today. He had found one of the people he was sworn to find: Isaac Matthews.

The voices in his head thronged his mind with maddening words of purpose and intent. Isaac Matthews was now his number one target. It was strange that he hadn't felt anything from him when they first met. There had to be another factor that he wasn't accounting for, one that had only made itself known when the accursed Lost had attacked.

And Isaac was only a piece of the puzzle. The mold that the dark being had impressed upon him was only partially completed with the addition of Isaac. James Garland was almost certainly another, given the power of the sword he carried. Shyla was resistant to the glove he had designed. He couldn't be sure without proper experimentation, but he had to believe the others were similar.

He could still remember the moment their world had been devoured by that same god. Eight survivors pulled out at the moment of destruction. Like some being of immense power had reached in and pulled them out, and began molding them to become what he needed them to be. He had dismissed the possible link between this incident and his god at first, but now he would have to reconsider it. If only he hadn't allowed their escape.

He was lost in thought, when one of the cameras registered movement. A red light flashed on the corresponding window, and he enlarged it to see what had triggered the motion sensor. At first he could only see the twisted corpses of the prisoners--likely slaughtered by the Life Mage on her escape--littering the hallway. Then he saw it: the bodies were disintegrating. One after another, they dissolved into dust, forming a growing cloud that looked similar to the shadow he felt earlier.

From the open doorway in the end of the hallway, a man emerged. He was middle aged, with medium-length brown hair. He looked ragged, like a man haunted by nightmares, but he walked with purpose down the hallway. The remaining bodies that he passed turned to dust, then swirled around him as though caught in the gravity of his aura.

Dr. Higgins's mouth broke into a twisted smile, and his eyes lit up with delight as the strange man deliberately made his way toward the vault where Shyla and the others had escaped from. He tracked his progress from camera to camera, as he tried to recall everything he knew about the prisoner.

A reticent man in armor with no identification, no known origin, and no known motive, Dr. Higgins thought back. He was the strange knight who they had captured three months ago. He had killed every agent sent his way until Higgins himself was forced to get involved. And he brought back another prize that day as well: the boy, Pahana. The knight had only said one thing when he targeted the boy and his sister: "Are you yet innocent?"

"Well, well, what have you been waiting for all this time?" Dr. Higgins muttered, his attention focused on the solo figure. "Are you causing the breakdown of the corpses? Or are you merely passing through?"

The strange figure reached the vault and stopped just inside the doorway. Tobias's armor lay on the floor, the metallic surface charred black from the detonation of magical energy.

Wordlessly, he picked up the pieces of armor and donned them over his ragged tunic. With practiced ease, he strapped the armor on as though it were his own. When all that remained was the helmet, he stopped, tucking it under his arm and stepping over to the back corner. Sitting on a crate was an inconspicuous rusty sword, which he reverently lifted up. The rust seemed to peel away, taking the shape of a massive white spider with black spots that perched on the now shining blade. The spider skittered up his arm and settled on his shoulder as he strapped the strange blade to his waist.

Finally, he placed his helmet on his head. He remained impassive as the spider crawled onto his face, then blended with the helmet as a faceplate. As the spider took shape, the black spots formed a visor he could see through.

The air around him rippled, and black tendrils from the void broke through the walls and wrapped around his body possessively. Higgins could feel the power shake the whole facility, but he didn't care. Everything was falling into place in his mind as his questions were answered: how the knight had jumped between dimensions; why the shadow in his own heart had come alive recently; why the bodies of the fallen had faded.

"James Garland, are you yet innocent?" the dry voice spoke from the grisly helmet.

Then the shadow enveloped him and they vanished.

Dr. Higgins stared at the camera feed of the empty room for several minutes in stunned silence. Then his smile returned anew, and raspy laughter broke free of his lungs, building into a raucous cacophony. He leapt from his seat, carried away in his ecstasy. The metal strands wrapped around his body came to life, like cheap imitations of the knight's shadow tendrils. They extended beyond his hands like swords, and he slashed through the security console with a powerful downward strike with his right arm. He brought down his left, splitting the primary monitor in two with a spray of sparks. Shards of plastic and glass exploded with each strike, but he paid it no mind. He didn't care for the loss of his equipment. He was lost in the thrill of what he had just witnessed, and the magnitude of the events that were unfolding. Like a man consumed by an addiction, nothing else mattered beyond this singular moment of catharsis.

Alarms began sounding as the equipment around him was destroyed in his crazed thrashing. He finally stopped and took a single steadying breath as he forced his mind to focus. There was no mistaking the god's power, and if a mere human could wield it--even just a sliver of it--he certainly could as well. But who was this man who held so much mad power? How had he retained his sanity when Higgins himself was consumed by even the glimpse of it? What was the meaning of the question he asked, and why was it directed at James Garland? Was the dark man an agent of the god? Or had he accomplished Higgins's goal of taming it?

There was a knock behind him, and the door swung open. An officer dressed in the traditional gray HDSF uniform stepped inside.

"Dr. Euclid Higgins, General Quinn requests your presence," the officer said with a smart salute.

Dr. Higgins spun around and clapped the man on the shoulder. "Excellent! We should leave this place at once! Some fool activated the self-destruct sequence."